


You're My Obsession

by VillainousShakespeare



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers Compound, F/M, Fluff, Love, Romance, Sex, Smut, challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:21:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23864437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VillainousShakespeare/pseuds/VillainousShakespeare
Summary: As the head of PR for the Avengers, you are faced with a lot of problems. None of them, however, is as big as your obsession with a certain God of Mischief. While he cavorts with models and treats you as a nothing more than a close friend, you find yourself unable to control your feeling for him. Can you find a way to make him final take notice of you?
Relationships: Loki/OFC, Loki/Reader, Loki/you
Comments: 19
Kudos: 181





	You're My Obsession

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as part of #mimi's one hit wonder challenge on Tumbler. The song I selected was "You're My Obsession" by Animotion. Here's the refrain:  
> You are an obsession  
> You're my obsession  
> Who do you want me to be  
> To make you sleep with me?  
> You are an obsession  
> You're my obsession  
> Who do you want me to be  
> To make you sleep with me?

Sometimes you forgot that it was not always just your friends who thought your job was glamorous. A long time ago you would have giddily agreed with them. Press liaison for the Avengers - what could be more fabulous than that? It was a dream when you had been hired by Stark Industries, in conjuncture with Shield, to lead the department. Obviously a life of excitement and pleasure awaited you.

If only you knew then what you knew now.

It's not that you didn't love the team; of course you did! They had become family to you over the past three years. Each of them had their own scars, both inside and out, and you had become as familiar with them as with your own. While yes, at some point or another, you may have harbored small crushes on one of them or another - you were only human after all, and they were a damned attractive group - none of them had gone farther than a brief infatuation that was easy enough to keep to yourself. Eventually the hero in question would either do something idiotic (as when Tony drunkenly decided to use his suit to... well, suffice to say your job had been a nightmare for a month, or became a complete brother figure, as when Sam repeatedly teamed up with you to kill the competition at charades), and the crush would run its course. No harm done, no one the wiser. It was hard to take someone seriously, after all, when you were repeatedly cleaning up their messes.

That had all changed when a certain Asgardian Prince had been reluctantly recruited to join the team.

You had known about Loki, of course. Your first assignment for the Avengers had been to do spin after the battle of New York. People needed to be reminded that rather than being the Avenger's fault, the destruction was only as limited as it was because they had managed to contain it. A series of good will appearances by all those involved had been needed, with particular emphasis on the "Aw shucks" appeal of Captain America and the physical perfection of Natasha and Thor. Not that Thor was your idea of perfection, but you knew your audience, and bulging muscles was never a bad thing.

That assignment, as it turned out, was easiness exemplified in comparison to persuading the general public that Loki, seeming mastermind behind the invasion, had in fact been an unwilling participant in the destruction. Even the repatriation of the Winter Soldier was an easier sell.

You had listened as Loki quietly explained, with more vociferous interjections from his enthusiastic brother, how he had been captured, tortured, and brainwashed into leading the Chitauri. The self loathing and bitterness in his voice had gone straight to your heart and lodged there like a stone. Never had you seen eyes more haunted then the bright green depths of the God of Mischief. It was fanciful to say that he had stolen your soul in that first, long discussion, but that did not make it incorrect.

You had hoped that, like your previous infatuations, this one too would fade away as you got to know Loki better. Certainly he gave you plenty of reason to cease your affection. He was proud, speaking to everyone else in a condescending tone that made your teeth itch. The smirk always tilting his expressive lips was almost as obnoxious as the playfully evil pranks he liked to pull on the others. Shrinking all of the belongings in Banner's room just slightly so that he began to think he was experiencing a side effect of his condition and growing even when not becoming the other guy was particularly petty. The poor scientist had run so many tests on himself he became anemic from repeatedly drawing his own blood before Loki finally took pity on him and changed it all back.

Nevertheless, you could not seem to get that first impression out of your head. You saw the self hatred behind the sneer, the defense mechanism in his pushing others away before they could turn on him on their own. That hint of pain, of a lost little boy, never quite left his eyes, even if no one else seemed to notice it but you. It was why despite the headaches he caused you with his arrogance and flouting of mortal customs you never sniped at him the way you did at the others when they stepped over some societal line. After all, they had all had a lifetime to learn the rules. Or they were Thor, to whom no rules seemed to apply since he was the literal Golden God. It was harder to be treated as a God when you were dark, brooding, and had gone on a murder spree not too long ago.

While Loki never overtly acknowledged your preferential treatment, you were certain he must know. His teasing of you was never malicious the way it could be towards others. He even seemed to go out of his way after a time to curtail his more outrageous stunts in public, commenting blandly to the group that he didn't want to drive you away, as you were one of the few Midgardians he could tolerate speaking to. It warmed you in a way that was totally disproportionate to the words hear him speak even such faint praise to you. When he added a wink for your eyes alone, you were afraid you were going to embarrass yourself and show how desperate you were for any attention from the God. One clandestine movement and you were soaking wet. It was pathetic.

That was, unfortunately, as far as things ever went. Loki was your friend, and that was wonderful. He usurped Sam's place as your partner in games, simply by virtue of obnoxiously refusing to partner with anyone else. If you did not win honestly as much as you had with the Falcon, Loki's ability to cheat and not get caught more than made up for it. It drove Natasha and Clint to distraction that they could not beat you. Loki would smile at you with a intensity that turned your insides to liquid and make you long for him to sweep you into his strong, leather clad arms kiss you senseless. The thought that this never seemed to occur to him as a course of action hurt more than you were willing to admit.

It became worse when Loki did begin to seek out feminine companionship. To the surprise of everyone, though when you thought about it you weren't sure why, Loki and Tony gradually slid into a competitive friendship that, while fractious at the best of times, seemed to give them both a great deal of pleasure. When it came to verbal sparring, there were few who could compare to the pair. As long as they kept the worst of this inside the compound you were happy to be amused by two such clever wits. Until, that is, Tony began introducing Loki to some of his lady friends. Not for the first time you cursed the fight that had led to Pepper and Tony taking a time out from their relationship.

The first time you had seen Loki, dressed in a designer suit that looked as though it had been painted on to his body, strut through the front door of a press event with a leggy, scantily dressed redhead on his arm you thought you were going to burst into tears. It only made sense, of course. He was the most beautiful person you had ever seen in your life. Of course he would date super models. He could have anyone he wanted. At least you never saw him with the same person twice. You did your best to convince yourself that it was less painful for him to date a never ending string of stunning women and men, each of them seemingly completely enamored with him. As you grimly arranged the interviews and camera ops in your practical skirt suits and comfortable shoes, you did your best to ignore whatever perfectly coifed fashion plate was currently feeling his large, teasing hand on their back as he whispered delicious naughtiness into their ear. At least that's what you assumed he was whispering based on the heated reactions he would receive. It was hell, and it was your job.

"You're obsessed," Sam noted one day, eyes rolling as the two of you watched Tony and Loki leading away a pair of news reporters who had been practically drooling as they interviewed them.

"I beg your pardon?" you asked, trying for a repressive tone but managing only an indignant squeak.

"Oh, come on sweet pea, who do you think you're kidding?" he laughed, looking speakingly at your favorite God. "I see the way you look at tall, dark, and evil. You are completely obsessed with the alien."

"You're crazy," you scoffed, heated face belying your words. "Loki is just a friend and a client, just like you."

"I wish! You never once looked at me like that."

"Like what?" you couldn't help but ask.

"Like you were picturing in great detail exactly what I look like under my clothing. Admit it, you are totally into the Lokster!"

"Okay, you're right!" you confessed, burying your head in your hands. "I am obsessed. I don't know what to do!"

"Oh my God, I can't believe you admitted that! I was soooo hoping I was wrong!"

"Sam!" you squawked, swatting his arm.

"You couldn't have picked Rodey, or Cap, or hell _me_ to loose your senses over?" he asked, shaking his head.

"I love you all," you sighed, "but in a brotherly way."

"Yeah, just what every guy wants to hear," Sam laughed. "So why Loki? I mean, yeah, he's pretty, but so are the rest of us!"

"It's not that," you shook your head. "I mean, sure, that doesn't hurt, but it's more. He's so lost, and so lonely, and I just... I just want to hold him."

"Just hold him?" Sam teased, laughing as you buried your face in your hands.

"What do I do, Sam? He has no interest in me at all. I mean, you've seen the bimbos and himbos he goes out with."

"You are worth twenty of them," he told you loyally.

"That's sweet. Wrong, but sweet. If I am going to get him to notice him, I need to do something. Will you help me?"

"With what?" he asked hesitantly.

"I need to become the kind of woman men want to sleep with."

"Um... you are," he proclaimed.

"Hush. Come on, we're going shopping."

It took you some determined badgering, but in the end you dragged him to every designer store in Manhattan to find the perfect outfit. Despite his insistence that Nat, or perhaps Wanda, would be better companions, he eventually joined in the spirit of the outing and helped you find the perfect dress. You knew you had hit upon it when you walked out of the dressing room and his jaw dropped and eyes raked you over before turning away quickly.

"Thank you!" you smiled, spinning in the short, form fitting dress. "This is it then!"

"No," he shook his head adamantly. "No, you are not going out in that!"

"Why?" you asked innocently.

"Because every man who looks at you is only going to be thinking one thing, and it is NOT respectful!"

"Perfect!" you giggled, admiring the way all of your best features were highlighted by the clinging fabric. "Just let me change, and then we have one more stop to make."

Sam sighed and ran his hand over his face but decided ther was nothing he could do. You were a woman on a mission, and you would not be stopped.

Some time later, after a stop to a salon for hair and makeup tutorials, you were back at the compound and ready to put your plan into action.

"Friday," you asked, as you looked at your perfectly lined lips in the mirror, "who is in the common room?"

"Two civilians, Mr. Stark, Prince Laufeyson, Captain Rodgers, and Agent Romanov," the voice said. "They appear to be settling in to watch a movie."

"Perfect!" you smiled. "Please find Sam and tell him to meet me here in fifteen minutes."

Sam had tried to protest again, of course. Seeing you in the dress the first time had been bad enough, but with your hair pinned up and makeup on it was even worse. When you refused to be deterred he had threatened to leave you on your own, but one look at you trying to wobble down the hall on your own in the stupidly high heels you had also purchased had him taking pity on you once more and offering you his arm. You were profoundly grateful, as falling on your face would ruin the effect you were trying for.

As you reached the common room, the smell of burning popcorn and the sound of irritated voices assailed your senses. This was it, you thought, beginning to regret your rash decision. What were you thinking? Even all tarted up, as Sam had called it, you were not going to be a match for whatever glamazon Loki had with him tonight. All you were going to do was make a fool of yourself.

"This was stupid," you groaned, stopping just outside the door.

"I've been saying that from the beginning!" Sam pointed out. 

"He's never going to notice me."

"Okay, now you're just being an idiot. If he doesn't notice you in this he blind. I am more afraid of what Stark is going to do when he sees you like this!"

"Sees you like what?" a well known voice asked. "What's going on? Why are you two lurking in the... holly mother of Jessica Rabbit!"

Tony's reaction, eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he openly ogled you was just enough to give you the courage needed to take the remaining steps into the room.

"Stark, where did you go?" Loki complained from the kitchen area. "You primitive machine has scorched another bag of the delicious snack food."

"Yeah, can't talk now. Busy staring," Tony said as he watched you walk in on Sam's arm.

"Yowzers!" Steve gasped, turning red as he saw you.

"Well, someone cleans up well!" Natasha added with a grin. "Damn girl, if I knew all of that was under your suit jackets I would have had you out of them years ago!"

"Who is she?" a blond lounging on the couch asked. "Loki, forget the popcorn, it's not like I eat carbs anyway."

"What are you all babbling about?" Loki asked, before turning around to finally notice you.

The change to his face was instantaneous. What little color he had drained from his cheeks as the muscles in his jaw clenched visibly. His eyes narrowed as he took in your altered appearance, then flicked over to where Sam smirked next to you, still helping to support you on the stilettoes.

"What is the meaning of this," he asked, voice hard and almost angry.

"Sam is taking me dancing," you said breezily, as if you could dance in the ridiculous ensemble. "We just thought we'd see if any of you wanted to join us."

"I'm hoping you don't," Sam added, ignoring the way Tony's hand shot up. "I kind of want her all to myself."

The bag of popcorn Loki had been holding fell to the floor as with two long strides he lunged across the room. In a blur of movement that was too quick for you to follow, Sam was shoved back against the wall, Loki's forearm pressed tightly against his throat.

"You will go nowhere with her!" he seethed, applying pressure. 

"Loki!" you shrieked, kicking off the offending shoes and attempting to pry his arm from Sam's thorax. "Let him go."

"Okay, let's all just calm down here," Rogers added, crossing to the try to pull him off from the other side.

Loki merely growled and pressed harder, causing Sam to choke.

"Loki, what is wrong with you?" you demanded.

"Go," he said through clenched teeth. "Go and take off that outrageous garment."

"I will not!" you insisted. "Not until you let him go!"

"I don't see what the big deal is," the blond huffed. "It's just a dress. It doesn't even look that good on her honestly."

"You," Loki said, not bothering to look at her, "whatever your name is, go. Now."

"But Loki!" the woman pouted.

"Go! I am through with you!"

"You're sure you want this charmer?" Sam sputtered at you as he struggled to breath.

"Less with every minute," you replied, glaring at Loki.

"What are talking about?" Loki asked, easing his grip slightly.

"Dude, open your eyes," Sam spat. "It's not like she's wearing that for my benefit.

"Is this true?" Loki asked, eyes seeking out yours while you did your best to avoid his gaze.

"I don't want to talk about," you replied, humiliation coursing through you. "Please just let Sam go. I'm leaving."

With that you spun on your heel and ran as fast as you could to your room. You would give your notice tomorrow, you decided. Tony would write you a good recommendation and you would never have to see a certain God ever again. By the time you reached your room, tears were streaming down your face, smearing the mascara that had been so carefully applied to your lashes.

"Tell me it's true."

As you let your door slam closed behind you, you screamed from start at the figure standing in your living room. Hands on his hips, eyes dark and probing, Loki seemed to take up all the room and oxygen in the small chamber.

"How did you do that?" you asked when your pulse returned to normal. "Beat me here. Get in here?"

"I am a God," he shrugged. "It was easy enough. Tell me. Is what the Birdman said true? Did you dress like this for my benefit?"

Not wanting to answer, you stumbled down onto your sofa and hid your face in your hands. When Loki merely stood above you, impatiently waiting for a response, you gave a small nod of your head. You heard him exhale and felt the cushion next to you sag as he sat himself down beside you.

"Why?" he asked.

"Why?" you echoed, anger beginning to replace the embarrassment you had been drowning in. "This is what you like, isn't it? Fancy dresses that leave little to the imagination? A woman fit to be an ornament?"

"Why would you think that?" he sounded confused.

"I have eyes," you laughed bitterly. "You haven't been shy about the type of person you are attracted to. I thought that maybe... maybe if I dressed the part..."

"That I might desire you?" he finished as you were unable. You nodded again, feeling foolish once more. "Does this mean that you desire me?"

It was the most difficult thing you had ever done to lift your eyes to his. The fear, the absolute terror that you would see nothing but pity in his eyes was overwhelming. But as you forced yourself to look at him, what you saw in Loki's gaze made your heart stop. That self hatred, that lonely, lost look from your first meeting was back, radiating insecurity of his own.

"Of course I do," you breathed, and watched as his pupils blew out to take over the green of his eyes.

Before you knew what had happened Loki was kissing you with a ferocity beyond anything you had ever experienced. The raw need in the way his lips claimed yours was overwhelming, and you eagerly parted to give him deeper access to your mouth. The strong arms you had fantasized about so often wrapped around you and lowered you back on the sofa as he covered your body with his own. Your dress, instigator of all of the drama, slid up you legs to give his hands access to your thighs, and he took full advantage, feeling the expanse of skin as he lifted one up to encircle his waist. You could feel him, hard and insistent, through the suit pants he wore, and you moaned into the kiss as you ground into his length.

" _Astin mín"_ he said, coming up for air at last and staring at you from a mere inch above. "Why did you never tell me?"

"Why would I?" you asked, brain fuzzy from the kiss and the way his erection was pressing against your core. "When all you did was treat me like a buddy while you dallied with models, why would I ever think you would care?"

"I never dallied, as you put it," he growled, eyes growing dark. 

"But you were always..."

"You told me I had an appearence to maintain, to fit in among the peseants. When I asked Stark the best way to do this, he suggested being seen with the simpletons your culture seems to worship. I think I startled him a bit by not limiting myself to female idiots, but other than that I got no pleasure from it, believe me."

"Really?" you could not resist asking.

"Do you truly think so little of me?" he asked. "I would never cheapen myself to lie with one of those creatures. Not a one was fit for such an honor. Especially when there was a certain mortal only an arms reach away, but eternally above of my touch."

"Why would you think that?" you asked, fingers rising on their own to trace his razor sharp cheekbones.

"I was told so," he shrugged, looking as though he wanted to murder the source of his information. "Before we arrived, Thor gave me very firm instructions to resist fratranizing with those we worked with. He said it was not seen as advisable to work off one's sexual appetites with coworkers."

"I see," you struggled not to laugh at the look of extreme annoyance on his handsome face. "And is that what you wish to do with me? Work off your sexual appetites?"

"Well, yes," he admitted, eyes going hungry as he looked down to where you had all but spilled out of the top of your dress. "I have to admit that is a rather appealing idea. But it is not all I wish."

"It's not?" you asked, mesmerized by the heat in his look and the way his fingers were lightly squeezing your ass.

"No," Loki's eyes went serious as studied your face. "I want you to be mine. Not just in bed, not just for sex. Completely. Mine and no one elses."

"Okay," you breathed, unable to believe the words he was speaking.

"Okay?" he echoed, stunned. 

"Of course," you answered, smiling at him.

"I don't think you know what you are agreeing to, _ástin mín"_ he groaned, pulling away from you. "I am... I am not an easy man."

"Well, thank you for that shock," you laughed, trailing your fingers over his broad shoulder and down his arm. "Loki, I know you. I know you have been hurt, and I know that you are haunted. Not only are you not _easy_ , you are quite possibly the most difficult man I have ever met, and I know Tony! And all of that, all of the layers of you, are just more reason why I love you."

"You love me?" he asked, eyes going wide.

"Well of course," you smiled. "I wouldn't go through all of this stupidity with the dress and the heels if I didn't!"

"You love me," he repeated, a huge grin spreading across his face. "Say it again!"

"I love you, Loki," you told him, wondering when you were going to wake up from this dream.

He kissed you again, with even more passion than before. You were unsure when your clothing had disappeared, or his. You were just suddenly aware that no distracting piece of clothing was separating you from the hard planes of his body as he pressed you into the sofa, body sliding along yours in ways designed to steal your breath away. When his hand dipped between your thighs to explore the wetness at your center you heard his name moan out of you. His fingers were eager, dipping into you and curling to heighten your pleasure as his thumb traced patterns on your hardened clit. All the while you could feel him, hard and long, against your stomach as he rocked against you.

"Please," you panted, as he brought you to near completion, only to drag his fingers from inside you.

"Please what," he grinned, lowering his head to suck on your neck.

"Please take me," you groaned, abandoning all pride. "Please make me yours."

"You already are," he said, lining himself up with your entrance. "You are mine and will be always."

With that he thrust himself inside you, taking your breath away as he stretched your aching passage. The shudder that ran through his buddy as he bottomed out within your walls was almost enough to make you cum, and let out a needy noise beyond words.

"Oh, you are perfect, _ástin mín_ ," he said in your ear as he began a punishing pace. "So good and tight around me, taking me all in. I have wanted this for so long. Wanted you wrapped around me, under me, submitting to me."

"Yes," you moaned, eloquence escaping you as he pounded you into the sofa. "Yes, Loki, God, take me!"

"You are mine," he snarled, rutting with abandon as he brought your legs up to encircle his neck, folding your in half. "My love. My queen. Oh, Norns, yes!"

Reaching to fondle your clit once more he began to stroke it as lost his rhythm, panting almost in pain as he rammed into you. It was all it took for your senses to shatter, sending you into waves of sheer bliss as you felt him explode inside you, shooting ropes of warm, sticky seed into your womb.

Some time later, you lay, head resting on him, as Loki dotted you with kisses.

"Loki," you asked lazily, smiling up at him. "Did you really not like the dress? It was rather expensive not to ever wear again."

A sound that wasn't quite a growl rose from his chest as he looked at you.

"I suppose I can allow you to wear it," he said at last. "But only in our rooms. It is far too provocative for you to wear in public, considering you have lectured me against murder on several occasions."

"Our rooms?" you asked, happiness exploding within you.

"Of course," he replied, smiling down at you. "You are mine."

"I am," you told him simply.

"And I am, in turn, yours," he answered you. "I do love you after all."

And really, what more could you ever want?


End file.
